Love, Sorry & I Miss You
by gleestud
Summary: Lea dug up a letter that she wrote for Cory while he was away in Europe. She never sent it, but she kept it for him. Telling herself that one day she'll be able to give it to him.


_**Authors Note:** This is a letter written from Lea to Cory, which is why the whole thing is in first person narrative._

* * *

_This was supposed to be with you by the time you got back from Europe, but I was always too chicken to actually put it in the mail. What if it had ended up in the wrong hands? What if it got lost? What if it got to you after you came back home? There were a lot of what ifs during this time, so I figured that I'd put it in an envelope and leave it for you to read whenever you got the time._

Cory,

Yes, baby, I know you don't like reading, but we both know that I never manage to get all the things I want to say to you out in time, because we all know that once you hold me, everything else goes out the window. But you always manage to get your words and thoughts out and every time you tell me something about yourself or our relationship, it makes me tear up. This letter is not meant to make anybody (but me) cry, but I really want you to know how you make me feel and why _this_ is more important to me than just about everything else in my life.

I love you. I think I always have, but it took so much for me to actually realize just how much I did love you. And just how much I _needed_ you all the time. And I don't mean just with sex, you balance me out, you know me better than I know myself and you know exactly what to say and do at all the right times. You tell me when I'm being ridiculous, you tell me when I'm doing a good job, you catch me when I'm falling and you stop me when I'm starting to think that I'm not worth any of this.

Remember the story you told me about when you first realized that you were in love with me? The day we met at Ryan's house for the read through and you almost knocked me on my ass? Truth is, I was already crushing on you before we met that night. Ryan told me about you, showed me your audition tape and told me that you were going to be the Finn to my Rachel. It wasn't like I knew what was coming our way as Finn and Rachel, but that night when you _bumped_ into me everything changed. I met you properly for the first time and when I caught you looking at me that way, things happened. Not the same kind of things that happen when you look at me now, but something else. Something I'm pretty sure I can't define or explain well enough for you to understand. Point is, that night, I knew you were _it_.

As for my story about when I fell in love with you, it started a long time after our visit to the bathroom. I knew, even then, that I loved you. I just couldn't wrap my head around this concept that kept rattling around in my head till that night when we all went out for dinner together. Remember that night? We all went to that Italian restaurant and Dianna and Naya were already drunk before we got there and they wouldn't stop laughing and giggling and everyone was so distracted with making sure they didn't fall over or cause a scene. You wrapped your arm around me and told me that I looked amazing – even if I was dressed in shorts and one of your old t-shirts – and you told me that if I didn't want to join the others, you'd take me somewhere else. Somewhere quiet, so we could just talk. But we stayed with the others anyway and while everyone was going crazy and talking loud and making no sense whatsoever, you kept your arm around me and talked to me. We had our first real conversation that night, over all the craziness, we talked about you growing up in Canada, and we talked about my life in New York and growing up on Broadway. We talked about your mom and my mom and Jonathan and what it's like being in the spotlight. We talked so much that when dinner was finally over, we weren't even close to being done sharing our lives. You drove me home and stood on my doorstep, like some high school date and told me that I need to rest because we had a long day ahead of us, you kissed me and took a step away, almost like you were waiting for me to stop you from leaving. And I didn't. I let you leave, because I knew that if you had stayed, I would have blurted out those three words and I might have scared the crap out of you, but I definitely would have scared myself. The whole point of me rambling on about everything is because that night I realized that there had never been a boy who cared enough about my life to listen to me ramble on Broadway, my mom, Jonathan and random things that I'm pretty sure meant nothing to you at all. But you sat there, arms around me, listening carefully, asking me questions, laughing at me, laughing with me, telling me that I'm insane and I knew that there would never be another boy like you. Not someone who cared enough to listen.

More than telling you I love you, I should tell you that I'm sorry. Most couples end things because they get bored of each other, or because some part of their relationship isn't what it once was or because they're not in love anymore. We didn't really end things, we were pulled apart. Looking back on those days I really wish I had seen it coming. We had a really good time in New York, during the up fronts, I showed you my city, I gave you my undivided attention and I made sure that every minute of your time in _my_ city would be spent well. I went through some of the videos from that trip – you trying to tickle me on your hotel bed, while I squealed so loud that everyone could hear us, our walk in Central Park, the little girl that dropped ice cream on your lap, that early morning walk through Times Square, the Naked Cowboy – it made me realize that every time we stepped away from LA and our lives here, we had so much more fun. After New York came Australia and now reading all those things our fans said, I have to admit, we were anything but subtle. We weren't trying to make things obvious, I can say that for sure, but I guess when you're in love with someone, it's almost impossible to not show it as much as we did. YouTube those videos, baby, because I swear you are going to be so totally amused and so totally embarrassed at how blatantly obvious the two of us were. Plus, since you're clearly missing me, so watch the video and think of me.

We shouldn't have come back, we should have just stayed in Australia and figured ourselves out. Because coming back not only destroyed us, but it changed us as well. Everyone's talking about how Dianna and I don't talk anymore, how we don't hang out together, how we're not living together and all those other things and I can't really tell them the truth, but we know what happened. I don't hate her for it, I hate myself for letting it happen. But I'm not going to go into details, we both know how talking about _this_ upsets me. But I'm sorry I didn't fight for you when everything fell apart. I'm sorry that I let go as fast as I did. You deserved better than that. Funnily enough, during our time apart I kept thinking of ways in which I could fix this. I went to New York and stayed away from everything and when I did finally come back, I was pretty sure I'd lost you to whatever girl was hanging around at the time. For a while I thought maybe you and Dianna were getting together, then you weren't and I kept pulling away because I was afraid. You always told me that my biggest problem was that I was too afraid to do anything. I wish I knew why, but knowing that I'd lost you to someone else, frightened me. It was almost like our relationship was going through the ups and downs of the Finn and Rachel drama and it was crazy to think that we were living our lives like our characters. And then it all came crashing down. But for once in our lives, I'm not going to talk about _him_ or… I'm not going to talk about him.

I miss you. A lot. I wish you were here with me right now, reading over my shoulder as I type this out, because we both know how much you love doing that. I wish you were here as I attend all these stupid press junkets, appearing on television every other night, talking about Glee and how much I miss you guys now that we're on this never ending break. I wish you were here the night I cried. Sure, we talked on the phone and you calmed me down as I sobbed, but I wish you had been here to hold me, tell me it's all going to be okay and that you're never going to leave me. I found an old t-shirt of yours this morning which amused me because you claim to only have nine t-shirts and you left one behind. It was stuffed under the couch cushion and I thought it would be dirty and gross, but it smelled just like you. I believe you were wearing this the night before you left, the night you surprised me with flowers, chocolates, wine and two rounds of the most amazing sex ever. And because I'm pathetic like that, I'm wearing the t-shirt right now, so that I smell like you while I write you this letter.

Hurry back to me, Cory, I miss you. I miss the way my tiny hand fits into your giant hand perfectly. I miss the way you play with my hair while we watch mindless television. I miss the way you laugh when I say something Rachel Berry-like. I miss the sound of your laugh echoing through my apartment. I miss your bed. I miss curling up in your bed listening to the sound of your breathing after you pass out on me. I miss the noisy cook-outs with your housemates (even though they did have me over last night for a pretty crazy party). I miss the sound of your car pulling up into the lot. I miss waking up to your face. I miss your Journey t-shirt. I miss hearing you sing in the shower. I miss your hands. I miss the sex. But most of all, I just miss you. So much that writing this is making me cry. And we all know just how much I love crying. Hurry back to me, baby, I can't take much of this separation anymore.

I promised you forever at the airport when you left. I'm sticking to that promise. I'm sitting here, in my bed, wearing your t-shirt, boxers and socks and I'm listening to you singing _Jessie's Girl_ (because it's on the radio at #1 again!) and I'm counting down the days till you come home to me.

Love,

Me.


End file.
